


Ain't it so very complicated?

by BreitzbachBea



Category: Like Father Like Son (Online Novel), Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Awkward Conversations, Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Racism, Just two dudes having a bad week, Love struggles, Relationship Advice, Snark, or in JJs case having a series of bad weeks for years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23025370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreitzbachBea/pseuds/BreitzbachBea
Summary: JJ had gone to America to forget his past life in Ireland. Now he was going back to Ireland to forget his current life in America. He had always been great at forgetting things, to start over with a clean slate wherever he went.Until a young man called Raphah sat down to him next in a bar in Boston, whose past had also driven him to the city and whose present was also giving him headaches.
Relationships: Original Male Character & Original Male Character, Raphah Davis & Jacob Johnson





	Ain't it so very complicated?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pyromaniacqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyromaniacqueen/gifts).



> This was a commission written for pyromaniacqueen. Raphah is her OC.

JJ had entered the pub to have a drink on his way back home, nothing more.

At some point a tall young man had come in. His eyes had been half closed, but he had looked around the place with great unrest in them. A small bell had tinkled in the back of his head. 

The man had come to the bar, sat down next to him and the bell had become louder. He had ordered a whiskey before he turned to JJ and had said: “He man, how are you? My name’s Raphah.” 

He sounded polite and friendly, but weary. Weary underneath what JJ called an American Aura. 

“I’m fine. My name’s Jacob. How are you?” 

“Oh, I’m fine, too,” he said with a smile and JJ know he was in for _something._ Americans didn’t say they were fine unless they weren’t. Involuntarily, he had the picture of another young American in his head. 

_“Haha, yeah man, I’m doing fine. Super duper fine, don’t you worry.” Alfred had said and had laughed while he had cleaned his glasses. There had been bags underneath his eyes and with every second his shoulders had seemed to slump lower. A crack in the American Aura._

“I just … had a rough week up here. Came from outta town back here for … family matters,” Raphah said. “Very complicated and … draining stuff, if imma be honest.” 

The term _Family matters_ rang the alarm bell once more. JJ’s cover up had always been that he was part of a normal company like any other, but of course he knew it still was a _family business._

JJ hadn’t survived eight years in America, most of them in the mob, to die in the crossfire of _family matters_ two weeks before he returned to Ireland. 

So he tried to finish his drink to go back home. To call his colleagues or local superiors and warn them that there could be problems ahead. Maybe even call Adriana or Amitola or Alfred. He had gotten him the job over in Ireland, so JJ felt entitled enough for once in this life to demand Alfred help him stay alive enough to take it up. 

While he thought his exit plan through, Raphah downed one whiskey after another, and with each empty glass, his head sunk a little lower. 

“You know what’s also complicated?” he jerked JJ out of his thoughts. Raphah’s arms rested on the counter and his head on top of them. The American Aura had come off in big chips by now while the corners of his mouth almost hit the bar. “Love. Love’s complicated. And unfair. And so weird, ain’t it so very weird?” 

JJ cocked an eyebrow. If the whole thing was a honey trap, he’d actually be relieved. If America hadn’t improved much else in his life, it had at least made him realize how low love was on the list of his priorities. 

“It sure is,” JJ answered. 

Raphah stared at his empty glass. “What do they say, ‘The heart wants what the heart wants’?” Raphah laughed quietly and the desperation dripped out of it straight onto the counter. JJ shrugged in a way he hoped was empathetic enough. 

Raphah sat up a little and turned to him. Despite his soft voice and manners, he was still _tall._

“Can I ask you something? Or, maybe … it’s … there’s a story and maybe you’d’ve advice on it,” he asked. 

Either this was a honey trap or Raphah was asking strangers in a pub for love advice. Neither thing would work. If JJ had been honest, he would’ve told him so – at least the love advice part. “What kind of story?” he asked instead.

Raphah twisted one of his braids between his fingers. After a few seconds he tugged on it. He avoided JJs eye. 

“It’s about … a friend. And a girl. And I’m kinda lost what to do,” he said, still not looking at him.

JJ took another sip of his drink. _Then I’m not the one to tell you, my friend, because I’m as gay as they come and even more lost than I’m gay._

JJ considered his options: Play along nicely and ask questions, make some encouraging noise or stay silent, kill the conversation and get out of it. 

As he considered, Raphah continued to talk and JJ wondered if that was also an American thing or if he simply had the bad luck to run in biggest the never-ever-shut-ups wherever he was. 

Raphah had stopped twisting his hair, but now several of his braids hung in his face while he had slouched down further. “You know, it’s my best friend’s baby sister. She’s just gotten seventeen, you know, and before I left for Boston, uhm … well, you see, she’s a really nice girl. I like her a lot. But she’s still seventeen and I’m twenty-one, so I shouldn’t and she kissed me before I left.” Raphah had disappeared completely behind his hair. 

JJ had no idea what was going on. He knew he _should_ be wary and he _was_ , but no strategy in his mind made sense, where the honey trap was a young man telling him a moral dilemma he had about his friend’s younger sister kissing him. 

“That’s a … story.” JJ said in lieu of any positive or negative reaction. 

“Isn’t it?” Raphah said and laughed. It wasn’t a happy laugh and it died down quickly. “I just dunno what to do with that. I’m just gonna get her in trouble, I’m just gonna get me in trouble.” After a moment, almost as a whisper, he added. “And I do like her, but I can’t tell that nobody.” 

_I sure hope I am nobody to you._

JJ didn’t know what to say. JJ didn’t want to say anything. JJ thought he shouldn’t say anything. 

_So your girl’s seventeen and she gave you a kiss. When I was fifteen, I was out dating strange men because I thought that was what being gay was about, because I was black in a white country and gay in a homophobic one and no one ever told me how any of this was supposed to be._

JJ found himself doing something he hadn’t done in a very long time – He thought about himself. 

_And then I finally got with someone my age, a loud mouthed, private school, son of a cop, white kid and I still blew it because I thought his father figure should be what I strive for.  
_

He put his hand over his eyes as he mentally walked down a walk of shame over this period in his life. Raphah, the pub, America was forgotten for this moment. 

“ _Jacky, tu salopard b_ _ê_ _te …”_ he muttered under his breath. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Raphah asked and JJ blinked. 

He took his hand from his eyes and straightened up before he looked at him with a smile. “Sure.” He cleared his throat and his smile relaxed. “I wouldn’t think too much of it at all, to be honest. I don’t know about girls, but didn’t we all like older people when we were younger? Like … celebrities and stuff. Or, you know, your big brother’s best friend. Or big sister’s.” He tried to banish any thought about Charlie and Paddy to the back of his mind, where they had slumbered for so long. “So just give it some time and maybe she’ll grow out of it.” 

Raphah’s face was a weird mix of emotions, his forehead especially. His eyebrows rose and fell, wrinkles came and disappeared as they shifted from one side to the other. 

“Yeah … yeah that’s true. I shouldn’t think about her too much, it’s just a … dumb crush,” Raphah said and tugged at his braids again. JJ had the feeling that Raphah wanted to disappear behind them. 

JJ should leave. It wasn’t his fault someone had been unfortunate enough to ask _him_ for love advice. Instead, he spoke up again: “Or maybe she’ll grow up and then you can have a chance. Give it time, either way.” 

“Well, time’s not gonna change either way that she’s a white cute young lady,” Raphah mumbled and JJ’s face heated up. 

He should get out of this conversation, this pub and this country. “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath. 

Raphah sighed very loudly. He probably hadn’t heard him curse. He didn’t look at him either and instead stared ahead into space. 

JJ was still wary, but underneath his wariness, he didn’t see a threat next to him. He saw very lost young man. 

“Life will find a way to work itself out, you just got to look for it,” he told him. “Find the crack and squeeze yourself through it.” He even patted Raphah on the back, a gesture so unlike for him. 

Raphah flinched and blinked at him while he lifted his head. “Yeah … yeah, I guess.” 

JJ smiled at him and Raphah smiled back. JJ paid for his drink, bid his goodbye and went home to make a few calls.

**Author's Note:**

>  _“Jacky, tu salopard bête …”_ translates to _"Jacky, you stupid bastard ..."_ , Jacky being a french nickname for Jacob.


End file.
